


A Snake and a Sinner Met in Purgatory...

by Spiderheart



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Drug Trips, First Meetings, Masturbating while high, Other, Smuggling, Trans Male Angel Dust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 23:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderheart/pseuds/Spiderheart
Summary: Inspired by a comment. A fic that I wrote as an excuse to have Lord Sinuous and Alastor interact. It kind of turned into something about Angel Dust. Seems I'm always writing about the boy even when I'm not...This is not technically part of the Wreckedverse, it's a kind of AU.
Relationships: Angel Dust/Himself
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	A Snake and a Sinner Met in Purgatory...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to randomplotbunny for the random plot bunny.

Lord Sinuous was not pleased with Angel Dust’s progress—more to the point, he wasn’t pleased with the hotel. He knew, from his spies in the studio, that Angel hadn’t changed phones, and he knew from his newer recruits that one usually changed phones when one ‘broke up’ with an abuser.

He was not a good angel, was Sin; but he did give more than three fucks about Angel, and wanted to see what changes could be made, if any, with the princess’ hotel. At the very least, redeeming souls might make them a militia that could stand against the exorcists, and that was something Sin was _very_ supportive of. They needed more organisation down here, and Lucifer had fucked off to Bermuda with his wife for the foreseeable, leaving them leaderless and disorganised.

He took the shadows to the hotel, too big for a car and never wishing to be anything but unpredictable. Gently, he opened the door and slithered in, taking his time. There was almost no one in the lobby, except for the numerous portraits, and the cut-and-paste architecture and décor that said _someone_ had been dimensionally shifting things around. Given that Sin knew the Radio Demon was in residence, he wasn’t surprised. The boy was clever, and had quickly learned all manner of powers.

The demon at the front desk stopped drinking from the bottle he had in one claw, and slowly lowered it, eyes wide.

‘Hello,’ Sin said, ever so softly. ‘Might I ssspeak to the Princcessss about one of her guessstsss?’

‘Yeah—I-I mean, of course you can. Sure. Uh… where’s the _blessed_ phone… h-hang on a sec. Please. Sir. My Lord.’ He fumbled with a charmingly old-fashioned phone, dialling with shaking claws.

Lord Sinuous took a cursory glance at the back of the bar as he waited, seeing the bartender-slash-receptionist’s bottle was the only rotgut; the rest was all middling to high quality—all, of course, from Sin’s own vineyards, orchards, and fields. He helped himself to a small glass of his finest label of gin, sipping as he waited and leaving a large tip for the barkeep.

‘Uh, Charlie, Lord Sinuous is here to see you…. No, I don’t know what about, just get down here, okay?’ He hung up, and turned a big smile to Lord Sinuous. ‘Sorry about that, uh… can I get you anything?’

‘No,’ Lord Sin said. ‘Is the princccessss in the building?’

‘Should be, yeah. It’s just… a big place, you know. She’ll be down in a minute,’ he said, nervously. ‘You sure you don’t need anything?’

‘I’m ssset, thanksss.’ He held up the little aperitif glass of gin. ‘Never you mind.’

-

Charlie swallowed hard. Lord Sin was someone she had only met once; but she knew he was the drug lord of Hell. He was here, and Angel was in his room, and _she had to keep them separated_. He probably… kept every drug ever in his pockets, or something. She remembered his smile, his soothing voice, the utter _size_ of him.

‘Hello, business partner mine!’ Alastor popped out of nowhere, throwing an arm around her shoulders. ‘Why, you look nervous, what could the matter be?’

‘Lord Sinuous is waiting in the lobby for me, and he’s…’ Charlie took a deep breath, let it out. ‘I don’t know. He’s bad news.’

‘Lord Sinuous! Why, could you mean the supplier of all of Hell’s narcotics, hallucinogens, uppers, downers, and sidewinders?’

‘I—yeah,’ Charlie said, pushing the call button for the elevators. It was morning, so maybe Angel Dust was asleep. She _hoped_ he was asleep. If he ordered room service, that meant she could just… just make sure he stayed in his room. Razzle and Dazzle were were good cooks, which was _one_ thing she felt like was figured out about her hotel. Well, and Niffty, who had somehow managed to clean the place up in record time.

Alastor followed her into the elevator, humming to himself, and she tried not to be nervous. ‘You know,’ she said, after a long silence. ‘Um… so you know of Lord Sinuous.’

‘Of course I do! Why, I considered him as subject for my broadcasts, but decided it would likely be bad owing to his necessity to many of Hell’s denizens.’

The cheerfulness that he implied he’d spared Lord Sinuous and his operation obliviating carnage solely because he was _useful_ was chilling; but, Charlie reasoned, that was _on her side_. She hoped. ‘So… does that mean you’ll help me keep him out?’

‘Oh—preposterous! Nonono, that would go against the aim of the hotel! Why, what if he wanted to _redeem_ himself?’ He said it slightly mocking, as always; Charlie was trying to ignore it. Scepticism was something she had to expect, with this endeavour.

The elevator arrived, and Charlie drew herself up, marching out and trying to look confident, as she looked up at a demon that was much, much bigger than she remembered; being the princess, she’d been taught to see the Fallen entirely—not simply what they had in view, but the hidden bits. Angels were much more multi-dimensional than regular demons, and Lord Sin was no exception. Her sixth sense saw coils and coils and _coils_ in every shadow, surrounding them even though what _appeared_ to the naked eye was a serpentine demon in an elegant and understated black suit, sipping gin from an equally understated and elegant aperitif glass.

He bowed politely. ‘Your Royal Lownessss,’ he hissed, his voice exactly as she remembered: soft, soothing, and seductive.

‘Lord Sinuous,’ she said, a little stiffly. ‘What brings you here today?’ she added the last with a smile that was harder to get out than she liked.

‘Why, concccern for one of my very dearessst friendsss!’ Lord Sinuous set the glass down. ‘Dearessst Angel Dussst—’

‘No!’ Charlie said, trying to head him off before he wound his addling around her head. The more you let Sin talk, the worse off you were. ‘Nonono. No,’ she added, for good measure. ‘He’s _clean_, he’s not going to fall back into your… your coils!’

‘My _dear_,’ Sin said, aghast with a claw splayed over his chest. ‘I only come out of fondnessss for the boy. Making sssomeone go clean all at onccce is a recccipe for disssassster, I only wishhh to _help_ you. It’sss not ssso sssimple as ssstopping all at onccce, didn’t you know that?’

Charlie faltered. ‘I—didn’t know that. But I know all about _you_, you old serpent!’ She tried to use her father’s nickname for Sin; and it didn’t work _at all_, as per usual. ‘You’re just trying to get him addicted again!’

‘He will _alwaysss_ be addicted, my dear princccessss,’ Lord Sin countered, ever-so-gently. ‘You can’t help that. He could be clean for a thousssand yearsss, and ssstill would be _mine_, regardlessss; but,’ he said, ‘you are daughter to my King, and I would _never_ go againssst your wishhhesss.’

‘Wouldn’t you,’ Charlie growled.

‘Never,’ Lord Sinuous said, firmly, and pulled a small pastry box from his coat. ‘This is for my dearessst Angel Dussst. That’sss all I wanted to do. He is sssuch a dear friend, after all.’

Charlie almost believed him. She took the box, opened it to find a pink frosted cake, with real strawberries on it. It smelled _delicious_, and she looked up, suspicious. ‘What’s in the cake?’

‘Ssstrawberriesss and pink chhhampagne, Your Royal Lownessss. Delicaccciesss, but not exssactly _narcotic_.’ A lie, but the princess had been sheltered enough that she wouldn’t suspect. ‘He’ll long for more ssstrawberriesss, of courssse,’ he added blandly. ‘But that’sss _hardly_ an _addiction_.’

Charlie hummed suspiciously. ‘And if I cut it for him?’

‘Terribly rude, but go right ahead, I sssuppossse invading his privacccy is to be exsspected.’

As he thought, she hesitated; the Radio Demon still hadn’t said anything to him yet, just making show of not paying attention—and two could play that game. Lord Sin admired the Radio Demon somewhat, had listened to his broadcasts with a kind of dedication that unnerved many of his staff; but one had to keep attention on one’s possible enemies.

Still, the Radio Demon hadn’t come knocking at _Sin’s _door, and so Sin wouldn’t count him an enemy until he proved himself one. For his part, the Radio Demon seemed to be doing the same, and their eyes met briefly. Lord Sinuous didn’t look away, but the Radio Demon merely widened his smile and gave a little bow, breaking eye contact and going over to look at one of the many paintings in the lobby. He had been humming Snake Hips, but switched to The Viper’s Drag. Lord Sinuous hid a laugh at the silent commentary.

‘Well,’ Charlie said, ‘It _seems_ okay… I mean, what you could put in a cake?’

‘Well, traditionally, a file for the bars on one’s prison cell!’ The Radio Demon said cheerfully, tuning back in and swinging an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. ‘But Angel Dust certainly won’t need one of _those_!’ He laughed that tinpan laugh, a laugh track behind it in the aether.

‘What—no! No, of _course_ not!’ Charlie closed the lid of the box, and Lord Sinuous wondered what the Radio Demon was playing at, supporting his manipulation. ‘Well, thank you, Lord Sinuous, for the… the thoughtful gift. I’ll make sure Angel Dust gets it, I promise.’ She smiled, big and earnest and all wrong for Hell.

Lord Sinuous smiled gently at her, and resisted the urge to pat her head, watching her go into the elevator… and hearing the Radio Demon sidle up to him.

‘I do believe you laced that with something more than pink champagne, my good fellow.’

‘I do believe you could have sssaid sssomething about it, and refrained.’

Another perfectly-dictioned chuckle. ‘Why, it’s no fun at all if he’s only clean in the _absence_ of temptation!’

Lord Sinuous raised a scaled brow, at that. ‘All the world’sss a ssstage, is it?’ he asked, starting to realise the nature of this beast.

‘Absolutely, my serpentine swell! And your concern is _touching_, I must say!’

‘It’sss real,’ Lord Sinuous dropped it like the mild threat it was; he didn’t need to say anything else, and turned to leave the way he’d come in—at least, with the visible of his presence. Like always, his presence in the shadows lingered a lot longer.

Alastor watched him go, and his grin to himself was scarier than any he ever flashed at others. How intriguing, the serpent of Eden coming all the way here, with a top-quality bespoke cake laced with Phencyclidine, likely of the highest quality? Why, the cake alone would cost most demons more money than they made in a year, owing to the butter content alone, without the strawberries added in!

It was a lot of effort for someone who could just as easily sneak into Angel’s room and offer him a cellophane bag of powder—or was Phencyclidine a liquid? Alastor wasn’t sure, he had never taken any drugs in his life, but he knew people tended to like them in pill, powder, or liquid form, but never in syrup form. Funny, that, Alastor would have thought syrup would be a lot easier to smuggle, and less prone to blowing away or spilling.

‘Must be nice, havin’ so much talent that _Himself_ just _waltzes_ in here with a _cake_ for ya,’ Husk said. Alastor had always appreciated that Husk monologued at him the same way he did with anyone.

‘Possibly,’ Alastor said, leaning on the counter and listening.

‘Wonder if the filling is strawberries. You ever had a strawberry? I haven’t had one since comin’ down here. Bet _Angel Dust_ has,’ he said it mockingly, though it was mocking born of envy.

‘Of course I have!’ But Alastor couldn’t quite remember them. He’d smelled them, oh yes, and the scent had set his mouth _watering_; but the cake belonged to Angel, and was likely so full of Phencyclidine that Alastor wouldn’t remember the taste even _after_ he had some. The drug was a sedative, if memory served, and a hallucinogen. Neither were things Alastor favoured. Sleep was for those too weak to shed their mortal trappings. Demons didn’t _need_ sleep.

-

Angel Dust answered the door naked, still towelling off his hair. ‘Yeah?’

‘A friend came by with a present for you,’ Charlie said, not at all fussed by his nudity. She wondered if he’d thought she would be. But she wasn’t! No sir. Nothing weird about nudity, she’d done _theatre_, and everything. She offered the box, and he took it, looking non-plussed.

‘Did you check that this isn’t a bomb?’ he asked, by now knowing she was so wet she wouldn’t suspect that kinda shit.

‘I did check, because it did come from someone… less than trustworthy. But it’s just a cake, promise.’

He opened the lid, and saw the strawberry roses, and smelled the frosting, and his heart started beating faster. ‘Who did you say brought this by?’

‘Lord Sinuous.’

And she trusted it not to be laced? Well, wait, kid probably didn’t even know what an ‘edible’ was. Hell, Angel had only learned the word for it a few exterminations ago, from some kid that didn’t make it through his first one. At least Hell had been a short stay, for him. ‘Gee, uh, thanks. You gotta plate and fork I could borrow?’

She held them out, with a lopsided grin. ‘Already gotcha covered, kid.’

‘Touché,’ he said, taking them. ‘Well, I think I’ll enjoy this right now.’

‘Sure thing, I know I would!’ She did finger-guns at him and let the door close, leaving Angel Dust standing there, with a cake full of dream sugar in one pair of hands, an a plate and utensils in another pair.

He went and set the cakebox and plate and utensils down on the table in his room, before going back to the door and slowly peeking out into the hallway, refusing to believe he wasn’t being spied on. He went back into his room, locked the door, put on the chain, threw the deadbolt, and hung up his towel, before going over to stare at the cake.

He shouldn’t. Even if Charlie didn’t know better, Angel did. He was trying to go clean, and he hadn’t lived somewhere this nice, without it being on Valentino’s good graces, and he didn’t want to lose the good graces of the only person in Hell Val couldn’t go up against. Nobody would bother Lucifer’s kid, even if they knew she was some weirdly dumb bunny.

Angel sighed, and picked up the knife. One slice, he told himself. One slice, and he’d have another slice tomorrow. He may as well enjoy this slowly.

He remembered how strong the cupcakes were, and knew it was a low enough dose that he wouldn’t be sailing tomorrow morning.

And, fuck, the cake itself was gonna be as good as coming. Whoever Sin had as a baker was the *best* damn baker in Hell. Probably was down here for making cake this good. Angel moaned at the first bite, the cake was delicate and moist, and the strawberries were sweet with just enough tartness, and the frosting was perfectly fluffy and tasted perfect….

He had three slices, almost half the cake, and got himself over to the bed before the trip started. It was gentle, just like the trip from the cupcakes. He was starting to think maybe the baked goods were worth begging Lord Sin for. His money was tied up with Valentino right now, but Vaggie had promised she’d work on that, and for all her faults, Angel could tell she was pretty honest. Maybe she was the first soul Charlie had redeemed.

None of that mattered, now; Angel reached over and got his lube from his nightstand, and the abstract-shaped dildo he hid in plain sight in the drawer. He spread his thighs, drizzled lube on his toy, and smeared the remainder all over his cunt with a flat hand, humming as the high started to make sensations buzz with an aura of pleasure.

Sin was a goddamn genius, smuggling him drugs in a cake… Angel figured he could just about fit one orgasm in before the high got him so gone he had to just lay there dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic where I have attempted writing Alastor, myself. Hope I did okay. Also, I hate him, he forced me to learn how to spell Phencyclidine because his loquacious ass _has_ to go and actually use the chemical's name all the time. 
> 
> Snake Hips and The Viper's Drag are both jazz songs from his era, and the latter is about drugs.
> 
> 'wet', in the context Angel's using it, refers to Charlie being both naive and frequently wrong.
> 
> [Come see me on Discord!](https://discord.gg/GEumu65) Also, [Lord Sinuous](http://lord-sinuous-of-tree.tumblr.com) and [Angel](http://wreckedverse-angel-dust.tumblr.com) have tumblrs!


End file.
